


Headspace

by thesometimeswarrior



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Episode: s03e26-s04e01 The Best of Both Worlds, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance per se but could be read as romantic undertones, Reverse psychology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12308457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesometimeswarrior/pseuds/thesometimeswarrior
Summary: They took Picard. They’re using Picard as their conduit. And Q won’t do a damn thing.He won’t need to.Humanity is damn lucky that they have Picard to fight for them—he has seen it himself—even if Picard himself might need some reminding of that fact. Andthathe can do.Prodding Picard into actionis, after all, what he does best.





	Headspace

If there is one thing he’s good at, it’s finding loopholes—taking people’s words, twisting them around and around and around, taking them so literally that he obeys the letter of them while totally disregarding their spirit. (There’s a reason, after all, that he so seamlessly managed—and continues to manage—to play the part of Judge when first he met Picard; every good judge knows to be a lawyer first.) 

He’s good at finding loopholes, and that’s why the Continuum’s order— _Q, you did enough when you introduced the humans to the Borg and gave them advanced warning. You are forbidden from getting them out of the inevitable result of their clash_ —doesn’t bother him. He won’t do a damn thing. 

They took Picard. They’re using Picard as their conduit. And Q won’t do a damn thing. 

He won’t need to. 

Humanity is damn lucky that they have Picard to fight for them—he has seen it himself—even if Picard himself might need some reminding of that fact. And _that_ he can do.

Prodding Picard into action _is,_ after all, what he does best.

* * *

He appears in Picard’s anesthetized subconscious as they drill into his brain to insert the initial apparatus. Q is, however begrudgingly, forced to admit that it is an impressive feat of technology that the Borg have developed, capable of completely deleting the consciousness of a mortal in a single instant, leaving no trace at all once the Collective has taken over…and that is why this first moment is so crucial.

In the visualization he’s constructed so that the man will be able to understand, Picard is curled up in a tight fetal position on the ground, half-asleep and fading fast. Q bends down next to his ear, grins the grin that irks the man most. “I told you that humanity was, at best, _useless_ , Jean-Luc.”

Picard stirs, blinks disorientedly before sitting up to see Q. His voice is meek, groggy at first but grows in strength and assuredness as he speaks. “We are not useless.”

“Useless, a scourge on the Universe, take your pick really…”

“No we are not, Q!”

“Oh, prove it, Jean-Luc.”

“We are a species that has included the likes of Plato! Shakespeare! Our capacity for wonder—”

“Your philosophers and poets can’t help you now! What good is your _capacity for wonder_ when you’re too weak to defend your very existence from the Borg?”

“We are not too weak.”

“Prove it.”

Picard stands up and straightens himself so that only now is the Starfleet Uniform that this visualization inevitably wears visible, grits his teeth. “I shall do.”

* * *

Q watches. The visualized form of Jean-Luc’s consciousness remains upright, determination etched in his creased eyebrows, in his steady, labored breaths. Occasionally tears well up in his eyes, and his lips and nostrils flair. It is clear what he is seeing out of Locutus of Borg’s—out of his own—eyes: Federation Starships exploding, burning into space, his own people burning with them. His own hands directing those orders, and he surely hears his own voice tampered with Borg-drone.

He’s fighting, and it’s an active resistance. It’s not futile. 

But it’s also not working—not yet. The strength of Picard’s will can only do so much against the direct influence of the Borg Collective. But as long as Picard continues to actively resist, as long as his consciousness remains awake under the Borg and fighting, there is hope that when the opportunity presents itself, when the Collective mind relents for just a moment to breathe—as it inevitably will as mortals—Picard can seize it, save humanity.

So though Q watches, for the most part he doesn’t say anything. Merely positions himself within Picard’s line of vision, something Picard can spite with his success—as if he needs any motivation beyond the deaths of thousands of Federation citizens. 

But when the man’s eyes start to droop and his jaw starts to slacken, Q takes it on himself to pipe up once again. “See, Jean-Luc? Lazy.”

Picard’s eyes open slowly, his head bobs up, and there is a weak attempt at a display of defiance in his voice. “What did you say, Q?”

“You all wanted to be explorers, chart the Universe. But I told you that you were a child-race. If you’re so lazy that you just have to nap—”

“Nap…what… _I am not napping, Q!_ ”

“The human race—”

“The human race is constantly working to better itself! And I do mean _working_!”

“If you say so, Jean-Luc. I, however, remained unconvinced.”

Picard turns away from Q, and doesn’t respond. But he looks angry—his teeth are once again gritted, and more importantly his eyes are wide open.

* * *

There is a moment, a crucial moment when Picard’s body is on the Enterprise, and the Enterprise is hurdling toward Bord Cube and the Borg Cube is hurtling toward Earth—at this crucial moment Picard’s consciousness is about to give up. 

The eyes of its visualization flit toward Q. “Perhaps you’re right, Q,” he says, panting, in a voice laden down with exhaustion and more defeat than Q has ever heard in it. “Perhaps I am too weak.”

“Yes,” says Q, appearing once again in front of Picard with a snap of his fingers. “You and the rest of the human race.”

“No,” Picard pants. “The human race is not…the human race is strong…it is only I, who…who cannot…“

Q shakes his head chidingly. “You are the best humanity has to offer, Jean-Luc. It’s why I picked you to represent humanity at the trial. And if you don’t measure up, as I suspect you won’t—why, then no one will.”

“I…” His voice putters out.

“Prove me wrong, Jean-Luc.”

“They…are…”

“Prove me wrong, Jean-Luc! It doesn’t have to be some grand gesture of resistance! You don’t have to stand up and start fighting other Borg! Your idiotic crew are holding your body! That android you call a commander is trying to contact you, to use you to insert a command into the Borg Collective. Get one word out! Tell him what command to insert!” Q pauses, forces himself to resume character. “Even _that_ would be proving me wrong. Personally, I don’t even think you’re capable of that.”

Something like understanding—though an understanding of _what_ exactly, Q is unsure—seems to pass through Picard’s eyes, and he closes them in concentration, squeezes them tight, even cries out with effort. 

On the Enterprise, Locutus-Picard’s hand grabs the android’s wrist, his voice utters: “Sleep. Sleep, Data.” The android suddenly comprehends, and a moment later, the Borg ship powers down as the entire Collective falls asleep. Shortly after that, it explodes, and Picard finally _finally_ regains control of his body.

* * *

He appears, invisible to anyone else, beside Picard as he sleeps in sickbay after the microsurgery which removed the Borg implants.

It was an easy decision, really, and if pressed Q will just say that he was covering his tracks with the Continuum: _Distinguished Qs, I couldn’t have interfered. The human has no recollection of my role in these events, and yet his memories reflect the events as they transpired, accurately!_ In actuality, though, Picard will have enough to recover from and to wrestle with and to reconcile without remembering that Q was there in his psyche as it all occurred. It’s better this way. Easier. Perhaps for the both of them. 

And, ultimately, it was Picard’s own strength that saved him, them, all of humanity—nothing at all to do with Q. This fact will, Q knows, be crucial for Picard on the long road to recovery that stretches out before him now, the only chance he will have of forgiving himself…and the man stands a better chance of internalizing that truth if he doesn’t know that he wasn’t alone.

It was an easy decision, but executing it is slightly more difficult. Q lingers in front of the man’s bedside for a minute more. And if leans down beside his ear, whispers: “Well done, Jean-Luc,"...well, in a moment, Picard won’t remember anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I love comments!


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